


you don't need to run, stay with me (my blood)

by leoistrash



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bang Chan is Whipped, Blood, Depression, Eating Disorders, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Kim Woojin is Whipped, M/M, Mental Hospital AU, Mentions of OCD, Mentions of Panic Attacks, Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt, basically woochan are both in a hospital, chan is whipped, im a weak bitch i can't deal with sad things, it starts off real sad but dw im not a monster this is gonna be mostly fluff, jisung and changbin are there for comedic relief, mental hospital au but they love each other, mentions of ADHD, mentions of depression, there's gonna be kissing and shit eventually bc y'all knOW i love makeout scenes, this sounds really bad but i promISE IT'S GONNA BE SOFT AS SHIT, woojin is the sweetest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-09-07 06:49:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16849174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leoistrash/pseuds/leoistrash
Summary: Christopher Bang never thought the world was beautiful, until he met someone who made him believe that maybe life was worth living after all.Kim Woojin never saw himself as good enough, until he met someone who made him feel like he was worth every breath he took.They were both broken, ripped apart at the seams, but somehow they'll find a way to make each other whole again-or, the mental hospital au i came up with at 12 am that is softer than any mental hospital au you'll ever read trust me i hate angst





	1. when everyone you thought you knew deserts your fight, i'll go with you

**Author's Note:**

> BIG MCFUGGIN TRIGGER WARNING
> 
> this story includes self-harm, blood, suicide attempts, mentions of suicide, and eating disorders ! please do not read if you feel uncomfortable with any of this !!
> 
> also i can say I've gone through most of what is written, and if anyone needs help or wants someone to talk to I am here
> 
> anyways !! i hope you enjoy this story

Chris never thought life was beautiful. He’d read the cliches, he’d heard the happy preachers, he’d seen the worried look in his parents eyes. He never believed life deserved to be called beautiful, for it was so ugly. The world itself was so incredibly ugly that life itself became ugly and just unlivable. 

He couldn’t remember when it started, maybe around middle school, because everything happens at around middle school: puberty, style changes, sexual changes. But Chris remembered the pain. He couldn’t remember when he started, how he started, why it started, but he did remember the pain. 

From that day on, he got progressively worse. Every day was like torture, the only thing he would look forward to was coming home and hurting himself again, because that was the only thing that soothed him. It was the only thing he had control over. He had no control over life, over the world: one second he would be happy but then the next second his brain would decide to fuck him over and tell him that he wasn’t worth anything anymore. 

But this, this he was in control of. He wasn’t in control of his thoughts anymore, he wasn’t in control of himself anymore, but he was in control of this. The blade moving across his skin, the blood flowing from his wounds, the searing pain. He was in control of that. 

With that new gained control, he started to also lose control. Control over his sleep more importantly. His mind would force him awake every single night, and as if he was a machine that was turned on, he couldn’t find the off switch anymore, and he was forced to stay awake for hours on end. He wanted to sleep. God, he wanted it so badly. But he couldn’t. He simply lost control. 

He didn’t dared tell anymore, much less his parents, and he found ways to hide it. Wearing long sleeved swim shirts in the summer, locking the bathroom door when he used it, stealing his sister’s foundation to hide the growing bags under his eyes. 

They did find out eventually, though. 

It was one of those nights, those unbearable nights, where Chris asked himself, is life even worth living anymore? This life he was living, this routine of only finding peace in hurting himself, it was so tiring. He was so sick of it. He didn’t want it anymore. But he couldn’t stop. No matter how hard he had tried to stop, because he knew it wasn’t good, it wasn’t healthy, it wasn’t okay, he just couldn’t stop. But he just couldn’t do it anymore, the pain, the fear, the restlessness. This life he was living was not worth living anymore. 

So, he got up from his safe cocoon of blankets and pillows, and dragged his feet to the bathroom across the hallway. It was like he was on autopilot, his body moving without his brain completely following. 

There was a spot he had never touched before, because he knew that if he did then he would die. He had always looked at his wrist in fear, that he would never, could never stoop down that far. But now, the smooth and clear skin on his inner wrist looked so inviting, so beautiful, so taintable. His fingers ached to mark it up. His soul ached to end it all. 

So he grabbed the razor blades from under the boxes of extra toothbrushes in the second drawer to the left, and he brought a shaking hand to his wrist. 

He was terrified, so crippled with fear that he almost couldn’t move from that position. He knew, that once it was done, he would be gone for good. He would be dead. The thought was terrifying, but there was a part of his brain that found the thought comforting. That part urged his hand to press the blade to his skin, and cut. 

Once the first one passed, it was like he had left his body, his hand moving at its own accord, going down the wrist, mercilessly slashing and cutting what was once pure, clean, pale skin. That skin was now covered his red lines, blood oozing from the fresh cuts, and once Chris stopped, the burn settled into his wrist, and it felt so good. 

He expected to drop dead the second he stopped, but that didn’t happen. He stood for a few more seconds, his brain too filled with focusing on the searing pain to notice his mother at the entryway of the bathroom. 

She cried, sobbed, begged, and Chris felt his heart shatter. 

He was rushed to the hospital by his father while his mother stayed at home with his still sleeping sister.

He was saved.

And that was the moment that changed his life.

 

The doctors had decided to send him to a hospital, because this problem was so deeply rooted in his system that it couldn’t be fixed with a few visits to the friendly neighborhood therapist. He needed help, serious help, and he knew that. But the thought of getting help was so terrifying to him. He was so used to his life, his routine, what would happen if he changed? Would he himself change as a person? If he went to a hospital, would people forget about him? Would he just be a nameless patient, wandering the halls forever because he was so fucked? 

Chris didn’t have a choice in the matter, though, he could tell by the way that his mother looked at him. He was going to get better, whether he liked it or not. Or at least, he would try to. That’s what he had promised his sister when he hugged her goodbye on the way to the hospital. 

Try, Chris. Please, at least just try. Is what she had said

I will, I promise. Is what he had responded with. 

 

The hospital wasn’t what he had expected. He expected one of those horror movie asylums, white walls, harsh fluorescents, and the creeping feeling of never being able to get out. It was different, though. The hospital itself was like a normal hospital. 

St. Vincent’s it read on the side. 

There was a wing on the side, and that was the mental hospital wing. This one was named differently. Instead of being just St. Vincent’s it was now St. Vincent’s Angels. 

Chris couldn’t help but scoff to himself. 

How horribly cliche. 

The inside, instead of it being creepy, scary, white, it was warm. There was a nice cream color on the walls and all the nurses smiled brightly and warmly. Their eyes were soft, and Chris felt a lot better about staying here. He thought he’d have to suffer for months under strict rule and harsh eyes, but this was different. He just hoped this good feeling would last. 

 

Eventually, he had to say goodbye to his parents, even if he didn’t want them to leave. As much as the warm smiles and soft tones of the walls comforted him, the thought of being alone, without his parents, was terrifying. He’d be living here for god knows how long. The friendly nurse said typically patients don’t stay here for more than a month or two, and he would get to call his family every three days and he could recieve calls once a day. But still, a month is a long time, and what if Chris was more fucked up than he thought? And he’d have to stay for a year? Two years? An eternity? 

He didn’t have time to think too much of it, for the nurse pushed his back lightly so they could continue. 

He turned around once more to see his parents holding onto each other and his mother crying into his father’s shoulder. 

He turned his head around again and fixed his shaking eyes on the end of the hallway bleeding with sunlight. 

***

Chris couldn’t remember how much time had passed since he had sat down on his bed after the nurse’s small tour of the place. It was only one floor, small because there were only around twenty patients in the teen’s mental hospital. The only thing he remembered from that tour is the nurse’s room that circled around the whole floor so they could constantly keep an eye on him. He remembered that part the most because through the warm feeling of the sunlight and cream walls, a shiver ran down his spine as he made eye contact with those surveilling nurses. He must have spaced out, his mind racing with a thousand and one thoughts, as it often did, and before he knew it the friendly nurse who had escorted him knocked on the door before walking in and telling him lunch was being served. 

Chris got up from his bed and walked out of the room, forcing himself to at least smile to the nurse. He was thankful for her, because she made him feel somehow safer in this new and scary environment. He thought maybe that’s what their jobs were: to make the patients feel safe and happy. He didn’t find it in him to care that she was probably only being nice because it was her job, he was just happy that he didn’t have to feel so alone and lost all the time. 

She led him down the hallway filled with windows and down a flight of stairs. She opened the double push doors and it revealed a cafeteria. The size was smaller than Chris thought it would be. It reminded him of a college cafeteria: round tables, a lunch line, and a warm yellowish-brown painted on the walls. Chris also crossed off another cliche he had learned about mental hospitals. All the patients were wearing what seemed to be their own clothes and not ugly hospital gowns. He did notice, though, that everyone’s shoelaces were missing.

The nurse told him that he would get his food from the line and he could sit anywhere he’d like. She told him she’d have to leave now, which he didn’t want to have happen, but she was gone before he could let out a form of protest. 

He turned back around to the small sea of patients. Chris noticed that they were all around his age, some even younger. 

This is a teen’s mental hospital after all, dumbass. Chris told himself before walking towards the lunch line. 

He was intimidated, that much is true. These kids have all known each other, they’re all familiar with each other, they’re all friends with each other. Chris was the outlier, the new one, the outsider. 

He was still hungry, though, so he swallowed his fear and joined the food line. 

The food didn’t look too bad, and it didn’t smell awful either, so that was another fear crossed off Chris’s mental checklist.

The only thing left now, was to find a place to sit. Suddenly, Chris felt like he was back at his high school, scared and confused as to where to sit to eat. He looked over at all the different kids sitting at the tables, and he noticed this wasn’t much like high school really. At school, the same type of people would flock together like a cliche teen hollywood movie. But here, they were all almost the same. The kids here didn’t seem to care about their differences in appearance because they were all struggling in similar ways. The thought comforted Chris enough to walk over to the tables, but before he could begin to choose a place to sit, he felt someone call out to him. 

“Hey, newbie!” 

Chris whipped his head around and spotted two boys sitting at one of the tables, one of them waving enthusiastically at Chris. The boy waving had an aura to him that was bright and energetic. Looking into his wide eyes and bright, heart-shaped smile gave Chris a wave of reassurance. So, he walked over to the table.

“Hi! I’m Jisung, and that brooding emo kid right there is Changbin!” Jisung said enthusiastically, and then gestured to the boy who was sitting across from him.

“Hey!” The boy- Changbin, said, lifting his head from his crossed arms, the black hood over his head shifting slightly.

“Well, ’m not wrong, am I?” Jisung said, turning his head so he was facing the boy. 

Changbin couldn’t have been more polar opposite from Jisung. When Jisung had a bright aura, Changbin had a dark shadow creeping over him at all times (the dark hoodie he wore didn’t help). Where Jisung was soft: his round cheeks and soft eyes, Changbin was sharp. Chris hadn’t had the chance to get a good look at Changbin’s face, but he could see the beginnings of a sharp chin and sharp looking eyes.

“Don’t worry, kid, Changbinnie tries to act all tough and shit but he’s just a lil’ softie, ain’t ’cha Binne?” Jisung added, nudging Changbin’s shoulder. The dark-looking boy groaned and buried his head in his arms. 

“Aw look at ‘im, he’s gettin’ all shy!” Jisung cooed, and Chris couldn’t help but laugh lightly. 

“Come on, newbie, sit sit!” Jisung gestured to the open seat next to him. Chris placed his tray of food on the table and sat in the open seat, Jisung watching him with eager eyes the whole time. 

“So,” Jisung immediately started as soon as Chris sat down, “what’s your name, newbie?”

“Chris.” He answered with a smile and Jisung’s smile only widened. 

“That’s a cool name!” Jisung said, his eyes almost shimmering with excitement. Chris couldn’t help but feel all his fears wither away. 

“So did ya just get ‘ere?” 

Chris nodded as he started to eat his food.

“Wooow, you gotta lot to learn, newbie, but don’t worry! Binnie and I’ll be your guides!” Jisung said, while hitting Changbin on the shoulder, all while still maintaining eye contact with Chris. Chris couldn’t help but laugh at that, covering his mouth so food would embarrassingly come out in between laughs.

“What are you laughing at, kid?” Changbin said, his tone angry, but as Chris looked up and saw Changbin’s full face for the first time, he was in no way intimidated. He had a sharp chin like Chris had early expected, and everything else about his face was pretty sharp: his cheekbones, his eyebrows, but it was his eyes. They were soft and almost innocent looking and Chris just wanted to pinch his cheeks like an old aunt. He couldn’t help but coo out loud, and that action made Jisung burst out into cackles. 

“See! Isn’t he just the sweetest lil’ thing! Binnie Binnie!” Jisung sing-songed, swaying slightly, and Chris could see the deep blush forming on Changbin’s cheeks. 

“Shut up, loser.” Changbin said with no bite in his voice. Jisung’s laughter stilled and he turned his attention back to Chris. 

“So, Chris.” Jisung started to say, leaning his head on his hand, his face getting closer to Chris’s.

“That is my name, yes.” Chris said, slowly gaining confidence.

“Smartass, I like him.” Changbin commented from the side.

“Shh Binnie, I’m talking to the new meat.” Jisung said, whipping his head to the side to face Changbin, and then, like at the speed of light, his head was back facing Chris. It almost gave Chris whiplash. 

“So, what’s up with you?” Jisung asked, his eyes filled with a mischievous glint. 

“What do you mean?” Chris asked suspiciously. Jisung rolled his eyes and dropped his hand. 

“I mean what’re you in ‘ere for?” Jisung asked bluntly, and Chris was slightly taken aback. Jisung noticed the surprise in Chris’s face and added on. 

“I mean, we’re all gonna find out eventually, plus ‘s not like ‘s a super big secret. We’re all messed up ‘ere, newbie. Here, me ‘n Binnie can go first to make you less scared about it, whaddya say?” Jisung asked, his eyes never losing their playful and bright glint. Chris sighed and shrugged, “I don’t see why not. It’s not like it’s a big deal anyways, like you said.”

“Great! I’ll go first. I ‘ave a social mood disorder, dissociative disorder, and ADHD. The first two are lil’ bonuses, they’re not the main reason why I’m ‘ere. My ADHD had gotten so bad that I would scratch myself for hours on end and-and sometimes, with my dissociation, I’d just snap into another side of my personality, like a fragment that exists inside of me but it’s taken a human form inside my brain, and I would completely switch and that side would force me to do shit I didn’t even want to do! Oh, I’m rambling, I’m sorry.” Jisung let out, his mouth running a mile a minute and Chris learned that once Jisung started speaking, it seemed like he would never stop. Chris smiled reassuringly.

“It’s okay.” He said, and Jisung visibly softened and smiled back.

“Your turn Binnie!” Jisung said, turning to face the boy, whose head was back tucked in his arms. He lifted his head from the little self made cocoon and spoke. 

“Depression, OCD, anxiety, panic attacks, all that good shit.” Changbin said before plopping his head back down, and Jisung faced back to Chris, practically jumping in his seat. 

“Your turn!” Jisung said, putting his hands on Chris’s knees. 

“Uh, well I don’t really know if there’s a specific name for it? I think it’s depression but it’s more like, OCD in a way too. Like, self harm and stuff and like I tried to kill myself one day and that’s what got me here.”

“Ah, yes, the traditional suicide attempt story.” Jisung said, leaning his head on his hand.

“Lots of kids here are like you, so don’t worry about it, newbie. We’re all goin’ through the same shit ‘ere. We’re just fucked up kids tryna get better.” Jisung added on, and for some reason those words filled Chris with reassurance and a feeling of safety. He looked around the room and saw the faces of other kids, kids just like him, who were all messed up in their own personal way, but were all just trying to get better, just like him. 

***

Chris didn’t think he’d have this much free time in a mental hospital. He thought it’d be strict schedules, appointments every second of the day, force-feeding of medication at every hour, but it wasn't like that at all. After lunch, there were some kids that had scheduled appointments with their psychiatrists and therapists, and some that had rec time. He’d hoped he’d be able to spend his first rec time with Changbin and Jisung, but Jisung had an appointment with his psychiatrist and Changbin had a regular check up with meds scheduled, so Chris was on his own, that is until group therapy before dinner.

He didn’t mind too much, though, because this gave him time to explore around the area more and get used to the space. 

Chris walked down a hallway and he noticed that this was the hallway with medical rooms, probably used for check-ups and appointments. He kept walking down that hallway, reaching the end and coming to a crossroads. This hallway was the one he had walked down when he first came in, the one lined with windows, and before Chris could begin to think which way to go, he heard the soft sound of a piano being played somewhere down the right side of the hallway. 

Chris felt himself getting curious, the soft music comforting to his ears, he just had to know who was playing it. So, he took down the hallway and followed the music. As he walked down, the music started to get louder, and Chris not only heard the sound of piano, but a voice as well. It was a voice as clear and as beautiful as angels. He hated to be cliche, but he couldn’t find any other words to describe how beautiful the sound was. It was just so calming and it felt strangely like home. 

The music led to a cracked open door. On the door there was a sign that read “Rec Room #3,” and Chris couldn’t help himself but peep inside, slowly cracking the door open a little more so he could stick his head in. 

He saw a boy, he seemed to be his age, maybe even a little older sitting at the piano, and Chris knew it was him. He was the voice that soothed him, calmed him, reminded him so much of home. 

The boy kept playing, focused on the keys and not on the sudden intruder at the door, and Chris couldn’t help but be more selfish and walk slowly deeper into the room. All he could see was the head of dark brown hair on the mysterious angelic voice, and he just needed to see more. 

Sensing the light footsteps, the boy stopped abruptly and looked up to see who the intruder was, and as soon as he lifted his head and made eye contact with Chris, he felt his stomach drop. The boy was so beautiful. So uniquely beautiful, and Chris felt his soul leave his body as he stared deeper into an ocean of brown eyes and the softest skin he’d ever seen. 

His voice definitely fit his face. Chris thought to himself. A beautiful face for a beautiful voice. 

The two must have stood in silence for about a minute, just staring at each other before the boy at the piano cleared his throat and spoke.

“Hello?” 

Chris felt like his knees were going to give out. 

“Uh- uh hi.” He mentally cursed at himself for sounding so awkward.

The piano boy, bless his soul, had gotten up from the piano bench and walked over to Chris before opening his mouth to speak. 

“Hi, I’m Kim Woojin. You must be new here?”

Chris thanked God in heaven above for letting him not only witness piano boy’s- Woojin’s beauty from afar, but from up close again, and he was so much more beautiful up close. Chris noticed his eyes were darker than he initially thought, and his jawline was sharp, but everything else about him seemed so soft. He also had a little mole on the side of his nose and Chris wanted to touch it. Boop it. For science. 

“Oh- Uh, I’m Chris. Christopher Bang, and y-yeah I’m new here.” Chris stuttered out after he realized he had been staring for a little too long. Woojin found it amusing though (he also found this new patient very cute) and he couldn’t help but laugh lightly and yeah Chris has definitely reached heaven itself. 

“Did you just get here?” Woojin asked.

“Uh, yeah, just got here today. A little before lunch.” Chris answered, and as his brain started remembering the day, he realized he hadn’t seen Woojin at lunch. He would have remembered a face as beautiful as that one. 

“Well, you have a lot to learn about this place in terms of rules and stuff, but don’t worry, I think you’ll be fine.” Woojin said with a smile, one that made Chris feel like he was actually physically melting. 

“O-oh, well, um- thank you? I think? Was that a compliment?” 

Chris felt like banging his head on the nearest wall for being the most awkward human being in existence and stop being so goddamn nervous and weird you fucking toenail. 

Woojin laughed, this time harder, this time showing his teeth, and Chris could feel his heart grow twice in size. His eyes crinkled up and formed the most precious half moons while his smile grew so wide and his teeth were so fucking cute, which is, actually kind of strange to find teeth cute of all things but goddamnit Chris couldn’t help but feel actually attacked by the man in front of him and how perfect he was. 

“Yeah, yeah I guess it could be a compliment.” Woojin said after he had finished laughing, a wide smile still on his face and Chris could feel his face heating up.  
“Christopher Bang?” a sudden new voice called from the door, and snapped the two boys out of this strange heteronormative homoerotic trance that they found themselves in. 

There was a nurse at the door, one that Chris didn’t recognize and she informed him that he had a check up scheduled before group therapy time. Chris mentally hit himself because he had completely forgotten about that and he just got busy. Busy ogling at the most gorgeous man he’d seen in years. Okay, maybe that was an overstatement, but Chris couldn’t help but feel completely weak for those beautiful brown eyes and gentle smile. 

Yeah, he was completely and utterly fucked.


	2. you're facing down a dark hall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warning!!! this is woojin's backstory and has in depth writings of starving oneself, force vomit, and general mentions of eating disorders and ednos !!
> 
> be safe, and I love you all

Woojin had grown up a perfectionist. In all aspects of his life, he wanted to be the best version of himself: he wanted to be perfect. He could remember the words of his therapist, the questions tumbling out of her mouth, why do you have this need to constantly be perfect? 

Woojin would respond with uncertainty, hesitance, because there wasn’t just one straight answer. It was for his parents, he wanted to be the perfect son for his parents. But, it was also for others. He wanted to be liked, accepted, loved by others. It wasn’t like they weren’t already doing that, he just needed more. He always needed to be better. 

It was also for himself. He needed to be better for himself. He needed to look at himself in the mirror and think, yes, I’m happy with who I am, I’m happy to be me. 

That almost never happened. 

He would look at himself in the mirror when he woke up, staring until the face looking back at him seemed warped with imperfections, and he needed to fix it. 

He couldn’t live with himself if his own body was so imperfect. 

People say other’s imperfections and flaws are beautiful: they’re what make us different and beautiful. No matter how many times Woojin heard that phrase, those words, no matter how many times people told him he was good enough, it was never enough. He needed to believe it for himself, he needed to finally believe that he was truly good enough on his own. 

That never quite happened. 

It started when he was in his second year of high school. 

The main imperfections he hated about himself was his body. 

He always saw himself as a little too big, a little too wide, a little bit of a waste of space. He would look at idols his age and see their perfect lean bodies and small waists and he would hate himself even more. He just wanted to be like them: pretty and unbothered, the whole world ahead of them.

Woojin felt like the whole world was just out of his grasp. The beauty and happiness and life of the world, of his life, was just out of his reach because he wasn’t good enough. 

So he stopped eating. 

He needed to change, needed to be better, needed to stop being such a waste of space. If he could look at himself and not hate his own body with every fiber of his being, then maybe the world would get better, maybe life’s happiness would finally be in the palm of his hand, maybe he could finally stop worrying about being so goddamn perfect all the time. 

But it didn’t stop. 

He would intentionally sleep in and he would have to rush out of the house to get school so he could have an excuse for not eating breakfast. He would lock himself in one of the small practice rooms in the music hall at lunch and just practice until his fingers hurt, but at least the pain in his hands would distract from the emptiness in his stomach. He would get home and run to his room, burying himself in homework and studying, putting his headphones in and blasting his music at full volume so he could drown out the harsh whispers in his ears notgoodenoughnotgoodenoughNOTGOODENOUGH. 

His mother would call him down to dinner and he would swallow the pain in his stomach. Dinner was the only time he would actually eat something, because people were watching then, so he had to pretend that nothing was wrong, that everything was fine. 

He had a system: he would take a small bit of everything offered, then throughout the dinner he would grab small portions of the different dishes, so it seemed like he had eaten more than he actually did. He was essentially only eating little bites of everything, but the act of him reaching for more made it seem like he was eating a lot.

His second year of high school ended and the third year started with a heavier weight in his chest than before. 

He would weigh himself every day, once in the morning and once at night. Within the span of a year, his weight would fluctuate between ten pounds to twenty pounds less than his original weight. His stomach was flatter than it had ever been before. His back was lean and his waist was starting to dip in, but it still wasn’t enough. 

He needed to do more, he needed to be skinnier, he needed to be good enough. 

After dinner, he would go to his bathroom and stick his fingers down his throat, forcing himself to empty everything that he had eaten. He would wake up with an aching pain in stomach as it pleaded to just be filled with something. He was so hungry. He was in so much pain. 

The week would drag on, and when he would reach the weekend he just couldn’t take it anymore. So, he would eat. He would eat and eat and eat to stop the pain he felt in his stomach, to be filled with something. He constantly felt so empty all the time, he needed to feel something. 

After he had ravaged through the cabinets like a wild beast, he would run to his bathroom and force himself to empty everything again. He needed to feel empty. As much as it hurt, he needed to feel the pain. He kept telling himself it’s what he deserved. He deserved to feel this pain because he wasn’t good enough and he never will be. He will never be able to look at himself and be happy. He would never be happy with himself: his body, his face, his everything. 

It had been two years, and his older brother had finally caught him. His brother wasn’t around much anymore. He had graduated from high school two years back and he had moved to a bigger city for college, leaving his family in the mountains. Woojin’s brother had always been a rock, someone to rely on, and when he had left he had no one to rely on anymore. 

His brother had been visiting for a weekend, and after dinner he had followed his younger brother up the stairs. He had noticed from his spaced out visits how hollow his younger brother’s cheeks were getting, how shaky his fingers were, how skinny he was. Not that he wasn’t already skinny: Woojin had always been fit, but now it was less of looking fit and more looking unhealthily skinny. 

He had found Woojin hunched over his toilet seat with two fingers down his throat.

His parents hadn’t cried, his mother didn’t burst into tears, his father did not beg him to stop. They just sat there looking disappointed, which honestly hit Woojin harder than any desperate tears could have. In all of his efforts to be perfect, so be the perfect son for his parents, he had only disappointed them. 

He could only whisper out a pathetic I’m sorry. 

His mother embraced him tightly, told him that he could have talked to her or his father about anything, told him he didn’t have to resort to this, but he did, and it’s too late now. The damage has been done, and he knew that.

That’s why when his parents told him they’d put him in a hospital, he wasn’t surprised. 

He was broken past the point of repair, he never thought he’d be able to go back to normal. He was too far gone, his body was too used to the constant emptiness. He won’t be able to do it. 

But he put on a smile, hugged his parents, hugged his brother even tighter, and promised them he’d try to get better soon. 

What does “better” even mean?

***

Woojin had been at this hospital for a little over a month. He had memorized the halls, the rooms, the workers. He knew when someone’s shift would start and when others would end. He knew the secret nooks and crannies. He knew that if you stood in this certain corner you wouldn’t be able to be seen by the nurse’s station, which didn’t really serve him much use. What was he gonna do in a goddamn corner? 

He had seen patients come and go, the original bunch he had entered with now had almost all left. New faces entered the picture and old ones would leave. It didn’t matter anyways, Woojin tried to just concentrate on getting better. The kids at the hospital all liked Woojin and they were all friends, but he wasn’t particularly close to any of them. Not that he cared, he was just happy they liked him and he could get on with his life. 

Life at the hospital was something he grew accustomed to, and he knew he wasn’t going to stay there for a short time. He needed a lot of work, a lot of intense work. 

At every meal, he would have to eat in a separate as two nurses watched him. He was given a choice: either he ate the meal they gave him or he had to drink the ensure drink. It was like a protein shake, giving him all the nutrients he had been depriving himself of without having to eat anything. 

For the first two weeks, he only accepted the drinks, and even then after he drank the ensure he would still feel bad because he knew he was gaining weight. But he kept doing it, it wasn’t like he had a choice anyways.

After two weeks, he started to eat the actual food, and he hated himself for it.

He wanted to get better, though, he needed to get better.

He noticed he would be putting on more weight. Since his stomach was so used to not getting fed virtually anything, its metabolism had slowed down and because of his slow metabolism it was easier to gain weight faster, and that’s exactly what was happening to him, and he hated it with every fibre of his being. 

In all honesty, it was healthy what was happening. He was regaining all that weight he had lost, he wouldn’t be so unhealthily skinny, and he would get back to normal.

But every spoonful, every bite was like a knife to his chest. Every time he would wake up, he felt worthless. The words would echo in his brain every night before going to sleep: ugly, useless, waste of space, fat. 

He thought this was what it was going to be forever. Waking up, hate myself, smile at the patients, look friendly, eat, hate myself, eat, hate myself, eat, hate myself. 

But something changed. 

It was after lunch, after he had finished his painful ritual of bite, chew, swallow, don’t make eye contact with the nurses, don’t show any weakness, bite, chew, swallow, he went to Rec Room #3. It was the room with the small out of tune wooden piano and the door that would always crack open even if you closed it with all the force in the world (none of the doors in that hospital closed fully except for the entrance to the nurses’ station). That Rec Room became Woojin’s little space, his little place of peace where he would play and sing for those small ten minutes before everyone else got let out of lunch and rushed into the floor looking for something to do during their free time.

He seemed to have lost track of time that day, because he heard the cracked open door open a little bit more, and a new presence step deeper into the room.

The sudden feeling of an intruder made Woojin stop playing immediately and he looked up at the person and found… a boy.

A boy his age, maybe younger, with curly blonde hair and a wide nose and permanent pouty lips. Woojin welcomed the thought that shit this guy was fucking cute. He wanted to boop his nose. For fun. Maybe even ruffle his adorably messy hair. 

Woojin, with years of early high school gay panic experience, was the first to speak in this awkward silence with level-headedness. He knew what he was doing. It seemed like the other boy didn’t know what he was doing, and Woojin couldn’t help but find it even more endearing. 

It was when the boy- Chris, had smiled, a small laugh that showed his teeth and his dimples that made Woojin really realize oh fuck this guy is c u t e. 

Maybe Woojin had a little crush on the new boy.

Maybe the new boy’s bright eyes made Woojin’s heart beat a little too fast. 

And maybe Chris felt exactly the same way, but Woojin didn’t know. He didn’t know that his sweet eyes made Chris’s stomach do backflips, or that his lips were so inviting, or that when Woojin laughed it made Chris feel like the actual gates of heaven were opening. 

They were both kinda screwed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter we get real awkward woochan pining let's get this bread laid ease
> 
> i made a playlist for this fic! go listen: https://8tracks.com/lucreziazichichi/i-ll-grab-my-light-and-go-with-you


	3. i'll grab my light, and go with you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> backstories finally ended, now let's get to the good stuff

“-and this is where Alex Lim an’ Park Hanjin got caught makin’ out. It was real funny at the time, but then we got all our privileges taken away an’ the girls and boys had to be separated for a whole week! But, it wasn’t that bad, since my only real friend ‘ere is Binnie, right BinBin?” Jisung rambled as he showed Chris around the hospital. Thanks to his earlier appointment with his assigned doctor and this tour that Jisung and Changbin were taking him on, Chris was learning more of how the hospital worked

He had learned that no one was allowed to have anything that could cause any harm on their clothing. Including their shoelaces. That’s how Chris got all of the ties on his sweatpants taken away and his shoelaces, which didn’t really matter, since he noticed that everyone was wearing the same pair of grip socks. 

He also learned that there were no pens at all in this whole hospital because one patient tried to kill themselves by drinking the ink inside one of their pens. So, just pencils for the rest of time. 

There was a system in this place: there were only a little under twenty patients in this whole teen mental hospital so everyone knew everyone, and they were all basically friends. No one really hated another because, well, why would you do that? You wanted to be friends with everyone, so if they had more privileges than you, then maybe sometimes you’d get to use those as well. 

Privileges were something you earned. Chris so far had none, because he had just gotten there, but as time went on and as he continued to follow the rules, he’d gain privileges. With privileges, he could go outside, get extra desert, or even choose the channel on the tv. 

Jisung had lots of privileges because he liked to follow the rules, and he was a sweet kid. Sometimes he’d just look at some nurses with those sweet, round, innocent eyes and he’d gain a privilege. 

Changbin said that jisung had privileges because he was a spoiled brat, but his hint of a smile on his face could say otherwise. 

Chris learned that Changbin had a way of showing his affection in a way that was different to people. He would smack Jisung over the head, call him stupid or a shithead, and steal his fries at lunch, but he only did that because he cared for Jisung. Changbin had called Chris a little bitch, and Chris couldn’t help but smile. 

The time ticked by, and soon enough, it was time for group therapy. 

Jisung explained that group therapy was a fun bonding time where everyone would gather in a room and talk about their feelings. Changbin said it was a time to get extra sleep. Jisung hit him on the arm and told him it was rude to nap while people were talking. Changbin just argued that if Jisung saw it as so disrespectful, why did he let him use his lap as a pillow during that one group therapy a few days ago? 

Jisung huffed and crossed his arms, which made Changbin laugh. 

The trio walked through the floor, reaching the open rec area with couches, soft chairs, and a coffee table (wooden, they couldn’t afford to have glass since it can be broken and used to inflict pain on oneself and others). 

Most of the patients were already there, seating in various arrangements: some on the floor, some occupying the seats and spaces on the couch. Chris’s eyes scanned the room quickly as Jisung pushed him to sit on one of the empty spaces on the couch, and his eyes met with a certain dark brown eyed boy with a mole on the side of his nose and the prettiest set of lips Chris had ever seen.

Woojin smiled at him, and Chris felt his heart race pick up as he raised his hand to lamely wave back, a shy smile gracing his face. 

Chris missed Changbin subtly elbowing Jisung and gesturing towards Chris’s dorky expression with his head. Jisung looked confused for a second before Changbin gestured to Kim Woojin, their senior by two years and eating disorder patient, and Jisung made a small “ohhh” sound, finally understanding the situation. 

“Alright, alright, alright, it’s time for my favorite time of day-”

A male nurse spoke, his enthusiastic and bright manner startling Chris for a second as he talked about group therapy and told the kids to begin. He asked general questions like “how was everyone’s day today?” and “how do you feel?” 

As kids started to speak and the nurse kept asking questions to probe the discussion, Chris’s eyes kept finding Woojin. It wasn’t like he really wanted to, it was more like they just gravitated towards the older boy. It was like he had this presence that needed to be appreciated and seen, and Chris was definitely seeing.

Woojin, most of the time, would look to whoever was speaking: a sign of respect, but sometimes his eyes would bounce to Chris’s area, making direct eye contact and making the younger boy blush deeply and quickly lower his gaze. 

Chris felt like he was in middle school looking at his crush while the teacher taught the class, and when said crush would look back to him his heart would pick up the pace and he would feel his cheeks heating up. 

As group therapy continued, Woojin would glance back at Chris more frequently, always catching him off guard and sending a warm blush up his neck and making the tips of his ears red. Everytime, Woojin would only smile, sometimes doing that thing where he brushed his bangs back and shook them back into place that made Chris want to actually scream because how the everloving fuck can someone be so gloriously hot. 

Chris had to constantly stop himself from dropping to his knees and screaming out just makeout with me already, coward! 

But he didn’t.

Because he was the true coward here.

Little did he know, everytime he would blush and look away shyly, a small smile tugging at his lips, Woojin felt like his stomach was filled with butterflies and he just wanted to grab the boy by the face and kiss the shit out of him. 

It was obvious that Chris felt some sort of feelings other than friendship towards Woojin: the older wasn’t stupid or oblivious, he knew something was going on, which probed him to play around a little, wanting to see that sweet blush and Chris’s beautiful eyes widening and dropping to the floor. 

He still didn’t know if Chris truly liked him like that, maybe it was just that weird friend-crush stage, or maybe it was something more. Nevertheless, Woojin was sure of his feelings. It was like some cheesy rom-com, love-at-first-sight kind of bullshit that Woojin never believed and indulged in, until now. It was weird, how suddenly he could harbor feelings for someone he’d barely known for a few hours, but he was certain that he wanted to explore this relationship further: test out the waters first, become sure of what he wanted, create a bond, then make the first moves. 

And what better place to do all of that than a mental hospital?

***

“Hey, um, what do you guys know about a patient here named Kim Woojin?” Chris asked as the trio sat down at a table in the dining room, their hands full of dinner (or, just plates of french fries and diet coke). 

Changbin eyed Chris suspiciously before grinning at Jisung. He definitely knew what the fuck was up. 

“Why do you wanna know?” Changbin asked, taking a thoughtful sip of his diet coke. 

“Uh, no reason?” Chris answered, sounding more like a nervous question than an answer. 

Changbin elbowed Jisung under the table subtly, and Jisung let out a not-so-subtle “ow! Binnie, that hurt!” 

Jisung turned back to Chris, eager to use his information filled brain. Jisung knew everything about everyone (that’s why his hair is so big, it’s full of secrets). It wasn’t like he wanted to know, he was just notorious for being trustworthy and really friendly towards everyone, so the patients trusted him to let out their pent up frustrations. He also could remember a lot of general knowledge that people tended to forget. Little passings of words between people would stick into his brain, he always said “‘s probably the ADHD.” Changbin told him “that’s not how it works, Jisung.”

“Whaddya wanna know?” Jisung said, leaning his head on his hand to get closer to Chris. 

“Uh, anything really.” Chris answered and Jisung leaned back, cracking his knuckles and folding his hands on the table. (Changbin muttered a “so fucking extra” under his breath). 

“Well, the basics are that he came ‘ere a lil’ over a month ago. Binnie and one other patient had came ‘ere aroun’ the same time as him. He ‘as ednos, which is a type of eating disorder, ‘s why we never see ‘im at meals. The eating disorder patients go to a different room so the nurses can see that they actually ate ‘n all that good shit.” Jisung explained. 

It was weird, finding out what Woojin was here for, because Chris seemed to forget that he too was a patient, he too was a little bit messed up like the rest of them there. In Chris’s cliche high school crush narrative, he saw Woojin as perfect, like he couldn’t possibly have anything wrong with him. But, of course, he did. Like Chris, he was here for a reason, and the reason being was to get better. Instead of the thought putting Chris off, it eased him a little bit. It felt good to realize that Woojin wasn’t some god that was perfect in every single way. He was human, just like Chris. It made Chris possibly fall in love a little more. 

“He’s been ‘ere for awhile, for an eating disorder patient. Usually they stay here for about uh, three weeks. He’s stayed for over a month though, which kinda makes ‘im a lil’ more special than the other eating disorder patients-”

“‘Special’ as in fucked.” Changbin said, cutting Jisung off.

“Hey don’t- don’t say that.” Chris said, looking to Changbin as the younger rolled his eyes.

“It’s just a joke, calm down.” Changbin said, his tone nonchalant and laid-back, but also having an edge to it that put Chris off.

“Still it’s not right to joke about that.” Chris said, standing his ground.

“What? It’s true. Anyone who stays here for more than a month is completely fucked. Look at me! I’m a freak, I’m fucked up, and so is your stupid crush-”

“Changbin!” Jisung exclaimed, and Chris abruptly got up, the chair he was sitting on squealing as it dragged along the wooden floor, and he walked off, feeling anger surge through his veins. 

He knew that Changbin probably didn’t mean it like that. He knew that Changbin didn’t mean for it to be hurtful, but essentially he was not only calling himself a permanently fucked up individual with no hope of getting better, but he was also calling others that as well. He was saying that Woojin was incurable, and that made Chris angry, because what if he would have to stay in this hospital for a month? For two months? Would that make him incurable? Would that mean he would just be the bottom of the barrel, the little suicidal kid that can never get better for the rest of his life? He was mad, because he knew that in places like these you needed to have hope. You needed to believe that you could get better, for your family, for your friends, for yourself. Chris wanted to get better so he could live life like he used to before he started hurting himself and wishing he was dead. Maybe Changbin didn’t have a family to go back to, maybe he didn’t even want to get better, maybe his only reason to live was to eat shitty french fries in the hospital dining room and call Jisung a stupid bitch with a smile on his face. Maybe that’s why he didn’t want to get better, because his family was in the hospital and if he got better, he’d have to leave the sanctuary that he’d built for himself. 

But still, he said that Woojin was just a lost cause, an incurable case. Chris didn’t know why he felt so protective of him. He remembered his smile, the smile he saw earlier today when he saw Woojin for the first time was one he wanted to see on Woojin always. He couldn’t stand the thought of him being upset, sad, angry. He didn’t know why he felt like this. Chris knew he liked Woojin, like, liked liked him. But, he knew crushes. He knew what a crush felt like. This was different, and it was scary because within the short course of a few hours Chris felt such overwhelming emotions for someone who was a little more than a stranger to him. 

It was scary, but it was also warm, welcoming, nice. It felt nice. It was a nice feeling in his chest that Chris could definitely get used to. 

As Chris was deep in thought, he rounded the corner and collided directly with another body, sending both of them to the ground, Chris’s fall being broken by the person with which he bumped into.

He was about to start apologizing furiously when he realized that of fucking course the person which he smacked right into and was now literally laying on top of was Kim goddamn Woojin himself. 

Any rational, normal person would get up from this compromising position but Chris was stupid and in love and wow holy shit Woojin was so beautiful up close. The overwhelming thought of oh my god, I am literally laying on top of Woojin, I am LITERALLY laying ON TOP OF Kim motherfucking Woojin filled Chris’s brain so much that he literally couldn’t move and was stuck staring at the older boy who was still laying under him.

“Fancy seeing you here.” Woojin said, breaking Chris out of his trance.

“As much as I like laying on the ground, my back is starting to hurt.” Woojin spoke again, making Chris scramble to his feet while apologizing furiously.

“Oh my god- oh god, I-I’m so sorry. Wow, I’m an idiot, I totally just bumped into you and- shit sorry-”

“Hey, it’s okay, I’m fine.” Woojin said, interrupting Chris’s nervous rant with a laugh.

“A-ah, yeah. Um- i’m still, uh, sorry though.”

“It’s fine, you’re cute when you’re flustered.”

Shit.

Chris couldn’t help but go red and Woojin laughed, throwing his arm around Chris’s shoulders: a friendly gesture, but Chris just blushed deeper because wow okay Woojin’s a lot warmer than Chris initially thought. He could definitely get used to the close proximity. It felt nice, it felt like home. 

“Come on, I wanna show you some secret places and also tell me a little about yourself. I don’t know anything about you other than you’re Christopher Bang and you’re hot as shit.”

Yep, I’m fucked. So incredibly fucked. God has deserted me.

“O-oh, well um, thank you. You’re- uh, you’re hot as shit too.”

Fuck, fucking shit, fucking shithole piss bastard bitch-

“Sorry, didn’t mean to be too forward.” 

Woojin started to lead them down the hallway, going to move his arm away but Chris’s hand flew up and grabbed Woojin’s hand, keeping his arm in place.

“N-no it’s okay. It’s fine, I- uh. I like it.” 

Now it was Woojin’s turn to blush, and shit that was the cutest fucking thing Chris has ever seen in his life. Woojin looked down and smiled shyly and Chris’s heart did a thing, subconsciously squeezing Woojin’s hand (which was still holding Chris’s over his shoulder) and Woojin squeezed back, sending a jolt down Chris’s spine.

“So, tell me about yourself, Christopher Bang.” Woojin started to say as they kept walking.

“This sounds like the beginning to some awful rom-com.” Chris said, gaining confidence to let out a witty remark which will hopefully score him some points in the “hey this guy isn’t too bad” section of Woojin’s brain. 

The older giggled and shook his head. “My life is an awful rom-com, just without the romance and the comedy.”

“So, just awful?” 

“Yep.”

“Mood.” Chris said out of reflex.

“Did you just say ‘mood’ what are we? Fourteen year-olds on twitter?” Woojin asked sarcastically, and Chris couldn’t help but respond with “Actually I’m eleven, so shut the fuck up.”

And Woojin laughed again, that unrestrained high pitched beautiful laugh that showed his cute fucking teeth and that made Chris’s heart melt.

“You’re so much worse than I thought you’d be.” 

“What? Am I that bad?” Chris asked, feigning hurtfulness, all nervousness he had felt before had washed away. Suddenly, Woojin didn’t seem like this untouchable human, he was funny, witty, relaxed, and just amazing. He was friendly, and he reminded Chris so much of home. Chris just felt so comfortable around him so suddenly. It was like they had known each other for years with how naturally everything seemed to fit into place. 

“You quote vines out loud, who does that anymore?” 

“Plenty of teens, but you may not know that, since you’re an old man.” Chris responded, adding a friendly roast because he felt comfortable enough to do so. That’s what friends do, roast each other.

“Actually I’m eleven, so shut the fuck up.” 

And the pair both burst out in laughter, their sides hurting and tears streaming down their face as the sound of their giggles bounced throughout the cream colored hallway and the bleeding sunlight. 

They continued like that for what seemed like hours, laughing and talking, out of breath but filled with the overwhelming feeling of home. 

And they never let go of each other’s hands.


	4. surrounded and, up against a wall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING!!  
> mentions of blood near the end and mentions of suicide  
> -starts at : He opened the door and stepped into the dark room, the only source of light being the small bedside lamp that was turned on  
> \- ends at: He felt his tight grip on the sides of the pillows being pried by warm hands and enveloped

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi hi im so soRRY it took so long for this chapter to get out but i wanted to focus on some other fics i was working on with my writing partner and plus school is getting hard and I need to start applying for colleges so life is a little stressful right now bUT I DID IT
> 
> here is the long awaited chapter, I know you guys are gonna like it ;)))
> 
> unbetaed bc i wanted to get this out asap so excuse any mistakes thank

Chris didn’t want to go to dinner. He didn’t want to go anywhere, period. He just wanted to stay where he was for a little longer, maybe for eternity, with Kim Woojin’s arm around his shoulders and their laughter bouncing off the cream colored walls. 

He also didn’t want to go to dinner because then he’d have to face Changbin and that’s just something he did not want to deal with at that moment. He just wanted to stay in this warm kind of half assed embrace and n the feeling of home. 

But of course, a nurse came and told them they had to go to dinner, so with a hesitant heart, Chris and Woojin got up and Chris almost expected Woojin to remove his hand, to walk off without him, but he didn’t. He did detangle their fingers, moving his arm from its safe position on Chris’s shoulders, but before Chris could begin to miss the warmth, long and beautiful fingers laced through Chris’s, and they walked down the hallway.

Before they entered the dining hall doors, Woojin stopped and squeezed their interlocked fingers, sending warm shivers down Chris’s spine as he locked eyes with the older. 

“I’ll see you later, at group therapy?” Woojin said with a smile and Chris almost forgot how to breathe.

“Group…? Oh, Oh! Yeah group therapy, see you- see you later.” Chris responded and Woojin laughed softly at how endearingly adorable the younger was. 

Woojin didn’t leave just yet though, his hand lingered in Chris’s for a moment, hesitation in his eyes, before he spoke up.

“I can tell something’s been bothering you this whole time, whatever it is- you should just talk to them. Tell them how you feel. It’s not healthy to hold a grudge, especially in a place like this.”

“How did you-”

“I have my ways, see you later.” Woojin said, releasing their clasped hands and suddenly Chris felt cold and alone. Woojin walked down the hall with the nurse, away from the dining hall and away from Chris.

He sighed, shaking out his jittery hands before walking through the double push doors and into the dining hall.

Jisung immediately spotted Chris, waving at him enthusiastically and pointing at an empty seat next to him, a tray full of food already there, bless his beautiful soul. 

Chris couldn’t help but smile as he walked towards Jisung, and he noticed that sitting across from Jisung was a mass of black cloth, aka Changbin, with his head buried in his arms and his black hoodie swallowing his body. Chris’s breath hitched a little, because he absolutely did not want to face him, but Woojin’s words returned to his brain, and he felt a little warmer, a little safer, and a little more confident. 

“Chris! You made it! Look, I gotcha some food so you wouldn’ have to wait in line!” Jisung said, practically bouncing in his seat as Chris sat down.

“Thanks, Jisung. That’s really nice of you to do that.” Chris responded, his smile widening.

“ ‘Course! We’re friends! I do this with all my friends! Well, only Binnie, ‘cus he was my only friend here, but he doesn’ like to eat a lot, but I always tell ‘im that eatin’ is always good for you an’ it’ll make ‘im big and strong! Oh, ‘m rambling again.”

Chris laughed lightly, putting his hand on Jisung’s shoulder as he saw the younger’s face fall.

“It’s okay, I love hearing you talk.” Chris said, and JIsung’s face lit up again, a bright heart-shaped smile adorning his features. Chris heard faint shuffling from the side and spotted Changbin burying his head deeper in his arms. 

“Hey, Changbin,” Chris started to say, attracting the attention from the younger: his head slowly turning and Chris could see one eye looking at him, “I’m- I’m sorry for, uh, for lashing out at you. You’ve been here longer and I shouldn’t minimize your feelings or what you’ve experienced-”

“Don’t apologize.” Changbin said, lifting his head from his arms, cutting Chris off suddenly. “I shouldn’t have said those things, it was rude and I’m sorry.” 

Chris blinked a few times, struck at how eager CHangbin was to apologize, and after a few moments he smiled. He reached over the table, pulling Changbin out of his chair and towards the older in a bone-crushing hug.

“Hey, hey! Let me go, asshole!” Changbin let out as he was being crushed by Chris, and soon Jisung joined in on the hug, squeezing Changbin tightly as his light giggles filled the air around them.

***

“So when are you gonna tell Woojin you’re head over heels in love with him?” Changbin asked Chris as the trio walked up the stairs towards their group therapy area.

His question made Chris’s heart leap into his throat, his eyes widening and his palms going sweaty.

“Wh-what do you mean?”

“Oh come the fuck on, it’s so obvious. I could practically hear your needy ass looking at Woojin during afternoon group therapy.” Changbin responded, and Jisung giggled nodding to himself at Changbin’s comment.

“Yeah, not t’ be like- like that, but it’s so obvious Chris. Like, super obvious.” Jisung added, just causing Chris to turn even redder and really really really want to disappear. Chris sighed and brought his hands up to his face to hide his embarrassment.

“Oh god.” He quietly said to himself. “Do you think he knows?” Chris asked, lowering his hands a little so his eyes peeked out.

“Oh, definitely.” Changbin said, laughing to himself and, yeah, now was definitely a good time to get smited by God himself. CHris just wanted to crawl into a rat hole and never come out.

“Don’t worry, Chris! I bet he likes you back!” Jisung intervened quickly, noticing Chris’s downtrodden expression.

“Yeah, but he probably doesn’t like me in that way. I mean, why would he? We literally just met and I have probably the fattest crush I’ve ever had in my life, God, why am I so pathetic?” Chris sighed to himself.

“Hey! Don’ say that! ‘S completely normal in places like these to develop deep feelings for someone quickly, I mean, think about it! You’re stuck ‘ere for a few weeks, maybe even a month surrounded by the same twenty some people, an’ you see ‘em like every fricken day! You’re bound to feel somethin’ for someone eventually! I mean, look at us! You’ve only known us for a few hours and we’re already besties!” Jisung explained enthusiastically, and through his cute accent and his slightly slurred words, Chris received relief, because Jisung had a point, and it made sense, and maybe Chris didn’t feel so pathetic anymore.

“Yeah, plus, if it helps, I’ve been here with Woojin for around a month and I’ve never really seen him look at someone with such… adoration? I think that’s the right word to describe it.” Changbin added in.

“Really?” Chris asked, his voiced slightly raised, much like his hopes.

“Yeah, I don’t really know how to describe it? It’s like, usually when he talks to people he seems really kind of like reserved in a way? But with you it’s like, I’ve never seen him look at someone like that, ever.” Changbin said, and Chris felt like he was gonna vomit a lung. In a good way, it was a good feeling, like the butterflies in his stomach just grew twice as big and they were about to explode out of his gut.

“Holy shit.” Chris whispered out, it was probably the only thing that could come out of his mouth at that moment

“Binnie, I think he’s whipped.” Jisung whispered to Changbin, his eyes still locked on Chris’s wide eyes and slightly dropped jaw.

“Completely and utterly whipped, Jisungie.”

***

Group therapy went as expected: the same enthusiastic male nurse was there to lead the conversation and Chris and Woojin kept stealing glances at each other, and Chris couldn’t help but get bolder with his obvious flirting. Because that’s what they were doing: flirting like a couple of middle schoolers in class who were both completely whipped for each other. It was a funny sight to see for Changbin and Jisung, who would elbow each other discreetly and giggle to themselves as they watched the scene unfold.

The shy glances formed into longer stares, and then, with a gathered confidence, Chris shot a cheeky wink in Woojin’s direction, and the older couldn’t help but be slightly taken aback by the action, his cheeks reddening slightly and his eyes widening. It made Chris’s smile widen and his heart to swell, and now he knew why Woojin liked to see him all flustered. It was so fucking cute and Chris couldn’t take it but he also wanted to do more. 

But then Woojin would wink back and then throw in that stupid smirk that made Chris’s heart do backflips and now it was Chris’s turn to be absolutely red and flustered. 

Two can play at that game. 

Chris then, recovering from his deep blush, leaned back, his back hitting the sofa, and shot a kiss to Woojin, his face seeming calm but his heart pounding wildly in his own chest and just a constant repeat of fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck going through his head.

Chris expected Woojin to jokingly shoot one back, you know, like bros™do. But, instead he just froze for a second, his eyes wandering down to Chris’s lips and there was this look that he had. It wasn’t a look that typical bros look at each other with, and it made a shiver run down Chris’s spine. Suddenly the air was thick with tension, a sort of tension that wasn’t inherently bad, it was a tension that Chris wanted to desperately break by sitting on Woojin’s lap and kissing the shit out of him

He almost did.

He almost got up, out of his seat and walzted his way to Woojin just to sit on his thighs and finally finally connect their lips.

But he didn’t, because for one, they were in the middle of goddamn group therapy, but most importantly Chris didn’t do it because at the end of the day, he is a coward in terms of feelings and love. He’d never been good with that shit, so he just silently prayed to himself that Woojin would make the first move, if he even liked him at all. And if Woojin wouldn’t make the first move, then Chris would just have to accept being stuck in this weird crush that he developed in mere seconds. 

Because he was scared. More than anything he was terrified. And he was even more terrified of the night that was to come

***

The rest of group therapy passed with Woojin breaking the tension by sending Chris a funny face, making the younger stifle a laugh and almost get caught by the male nurse, which only made Woojin and Chris have to hide their blooming laughter even harder. 

Before Chris could even approach Woojin after group therapy, he was grabbed by Changbin and Jisung and Woojin was lost through the thin crowd of teenagers going their separate ways. The trio started to walk passed the nurse’s station and down the hallway lined with windows, and instead of the bright sunshine staring them back was the darkness of night.

And suddenly the hospital wasn’t as warm and inviting anymore. 

Night would always bring the worst sides of Chris. Night was when he would get home. Night was when all distractions left him. Night was when he would face the same cold reflection in his bathroom as he reached down to his drawer and pulled out his razor blades and hurt himself. 

Every night.

And tonight was going to be his first night in years without doing it.

The feeling of happiness and warmth quickly left him as he was only filled with a sense of want and need to touch that familiar cold metal again and see his warm blood running down his arm as he would stare at the dead reflection that didn’t look like him anymore.

He needed it.

And he felt himself start to break down, but he couldn’t. Not now. Not when there were so many people around.

Changbin and Jisung led him down the hallway and in front of one of the many almost closed doors in that hall (none of the doors in this hospital could close fully). 

“This is your room! You probably ‘ave already seen it, but in case you forgot where it was! Here it is! We’ll see ya in the mornin’!” Jisung said, always enthusiastic and always happy. Chris could only force a smile back as Changbin and Jisung walked down the hallway, away from him.

He opened the door and stepped into the dark room, the only source of light being the small bedside lamp that was turned on. On his bed, Chris could see his worn backpack filled with changes of clothes and his favorite book placed neatly on the bedside table. It made Chris smile at the small remembrance of home, but suddenly the warm feeling was gone again and all that was left was cold and deep, dark, sadness.

He missed his home, he missed his sister and his mother and his father. He missed his bed and his stupid old anime posters that he’d never taken down because he always forgets to. He missed that stupid small bathroom that he and his sister had to share and he missed always seeing her stuff overflowing the counters and never leaving him room for anything. He missed his mother’s warm hugs and her soft voice telling him everything was going to be okay. 

He needed his mother again, he needed that voice of reassurance because at that moment nothing seemed to be going okay, and life didn’t seem like it’d be everything but okay. It seemed like no matter how hard he was going to try he was going to be stuck in this mentality and this cage that he had built himself and never made a key. He was going to be stuck in this hell forever and there would be nothing but darkness and tears and blood. So much blood that it made him sick to his stomach but he couldn’t stop the blood from flowing and flowing and flowing until he’d eventually die and maybe that thought didn’t terrify him.

Maybe dying wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

Maybe if he just suffocated himself with his pillow he’d finally die and be free from this fucking hell he was forced to live in. This hell that he had created for himself and never gave himself a way out. 

Chris doesn’t remember walking towards the bed, he doesn't remember laying down, but suddenly he was crying into his pillow, his sobs muffled and a piercing pain in his neck and in his chest as the sobs ripped at his throat. He couldn’t help but think of his mom and he could only cry harder at the memory of her and her warm hugs and her soothing voice as she would rub his back and he would cry into her lap. He couldn’t help but think of his sister and her pleading eyes as she asked him to promise her to get better. Chris felt the sobs ripping at his throat, because he was failing his sister and his promise. He wanted to get better, but getting better was going to be so hard, and all he wants to do right now is die and never see the light of the day again.

“Please.” Chris whispered out as tears fell down his cheeks. He didn’t know who he was talking to, he just knew he needed someone right now. 

“Please, anybody who’s listening right now. Someone, please help me.”

He lifted his head up to the ceiling illuminated by the soft glow of the bedside table, and once he realized that no one was listening, he bowed his head down again and the tears started to stream down his face again, falling on the pillow and dampening the cloth.

No one was coming, and no one was going to help him. 

No one cared.

No one cared.

No one cared.

The ugly sensation in his chest grew until it reached his throat, and Chris felt like he was going to explode, until he felt a sudden warmth drape over his back and a warm breath on his neck. And suddenly the world wasn’t so cold anymore, and his throat didn’t burn, and his chest slowly started to relieve it’s pressures, and he felt calm. 

He felt his tight grip on the sides of the pillows being pried by warm hands and enveloped, his fingertips not stinging so much anymore, and he felt himself breath a sigh of relief. 

“Breathe, Chris.” Woojin said calmly, softly, beautifully into his ear as his thumb started to circle around the top of Chris’s hand. Clockwise. Clockwise. Counterclockwise. 

Chris took a deep breath in and exhaled, feeling his once tight and high strung body sink deeper into the mattress. He breathed in again, focusing on Woojin’s thumb circling his hand and the older’s steady breathing near his ear, and he felt the tight knots in his stomach becoming undone, all traces of anguish leaving him. 

“I’m gonna move you, is that okay?” Woojin asked after he saw Chris had calmed down. The younger nodded, not trusting his voice in that moment. 

Woojin manuvered himself so he was sitting cross legged at the end of the bed, and he lightly tapped Chris’s calf. “Come on, sit up.” He said in a warm tone, one that reminded Chris of his house’s tan walls and the smell of his mother’s cooking.

Chris sat facing Woojin, crosslegged and hugging the tear stained pillow, avoiding Woojin’s eye contact, afraid of his weak form in that moment. 

A few seconds passed, and neither of them spoke, Woojin obviously wanting Chris to speak up first, so he cleared his throat and made sure his voice was steady enough.

“How did you even get here?” Chris asked softly, afraid of speaking too loudly to alert any nurses.

“Snuck out. My room’s door is placed in a blind spot and it’s right down the hall from yours. Had to crawl so the nurses wouldn’t catch me.” Woojin said, slightly laughing at the end, the low chuckle making Chris’s heart race, but he couldn’t help but smile at the thought.

“How did you know this was my room?” Chris asked.

“Saw you walking in here a few hours ago with Changbin and Jisung before lights out.” Woojin said sheepishly, looking down at the covers and tracing patterns into the fabric.

“I wanted to talk to you, but you seemed busy with you friends so I just went to my room.” Woojin added on, making Chris’s heart swell. 

“Why did you come?” Chris asked finally, his voice shaky and wavering. Woojin then boldy grabbed Chris’s hand, making the younger lock eyes with him. 

“I know how hard the first night is. I remember when i first came here, I couldn’t do what I had been doing to myself every night for the past two years, and I just broke down, and I had no one to comfort me or tell me things were going to be okay. I could hear you from my room, and I… I couldn’t just, stand by and let you go through that, you know?” Woojin explained, and Chris felt his heart swell even more than it did before. 

Someone cared. 

Woojin cared. 

And that was enough for Chris to break down again, unable to stop the tears from cascading down his face. He felt a hand thread through his hair and cradle the back of his head, pushing slightly so his face landed on a warm chest, and he was suddenly enveloped with strong arms and the feeling of home.

Chris cried into Woojin’s chest like a baby, gripping Woojin’s shirt as his tears stained it. Woojin kept his hand on the back of Chris’s head, running his fingers through his hair and sending the warmest of shivers down his spine to where Woojin’s other hand was resting on Chris’s lower back, filling Chris with a feeling of safety he’d never felt before at nighttime. 

“I’m right here, Chris. I’m right here and I’m not going to leave.”

Chris looked up, his eyes meeting Woojin’s, which were glossy, unlike how they always were: steady and stoic, like a wall of stone. 

“Promise? Promise you’re not going to leave, even if I’m a monster?” Chris pressed on with a tearful voice.

“You could never be a monster,” Woojin started, “If anything you’re an angel. I’ve never felt so strongly about another person before.”

Chris could feel his own heart hammering in his chest. Is this really happening? 

“I feel- I feel strongly about you, too. Like, really strongly. And it’s scary because I’ve never really felt this strongly about anyone in such a short span of time, and, I just- feel really strongly about you.”

Woojin smiled at him, showing his teeth and his eyes crinkling into beautiful little moons and Chris felt his heart leap in his chest.

“From the moment I saw you I wanted to hold you like this. To call you something… more.”

“You can call me yours, that’s all I’ve ever wanted since I saw you.” Chris responded, this time with no hesitation. All fear that he once had melted away. This was happening, this was fucking happening.

And suddenly, Chris fell backwards, his back hitting the bed and Woojin hugging him tightly and burying his head in the younger’s chest. Chris laughed slightly and asked, “what was that for, dork?”

“Nothing I’m just, really happy right now.” Woojin said into Chris’s chest. Chris laced his fingers through Woojin’s hair and the older buried his face in Chris’s chest. The action making Chris be filled from head to toe with adoration for the older.

“You’re so fucking cute.” Chris couldn’t help but say.

“Says you.” Woojin retorted quickly, his head resting on Chris’s chest and his eyes shutting peacefully.

“So what am I? Cute or an angel?”

“You’re an angel, because before you I had no reason to try. I thought I was going to be stuck here forever because I just can’t get better, but you make me want to get better.”

Chris was a little struck by the intense answer, his hand stilling on Woojin’s hair before moving the hand so it was resting on Woojin’s cheek, the older sighing into the touch.

“You make me want to get better, too.”

Woojin then lifted his head up, his chin resting on Chris’s chest as they looked at each other like the most cliche couple in a heterosexual movie cover ever. 

“Then let’s get better together, okay? For each other?” Chris asked, using the hand on Woojin’s cheek to guide the older’s face closer. Woojin was now resting on his hands, his face inches away from Chris’s, and he could finally fully see the beautiful imperfections on Chris’s face. The bags under his eyes, his slightly chapped lips, and his pale skin. It all made Woojin fall deeper in love with him

“For each other.” Woojin said, and then he kissed the beautiful man beneath him, the warm lamp beside them illuminating their path as their mouths danced with each other for the first time.

And what a beautiful dance it was.

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on social media!! i love making friends
> 
> instagram: kimuwujin
> 
> twt: ultkimuwujin
> 
> tumblr: minminhyukkie
> 
> i made a playlist for this fic!! listen to it here: https://8tracks.com/lucreziazichichi/i-ll-grab-my-light-and-go-with-you


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